Doll Face
by ll.Diantha.ll
Summary: Bella is known as an immaculate, intelligent high school student that's perceived to be the epitome of the perfect young lady. But that's only in PUBLIC. At home, the mask comes off, and the true Bella is known. Walking around her underwear is the least of her problems, especially when a certain handsome nerd is around. AH, short chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, if I did, I'd be in Bora Bora lounging on a chaise as I sip on a nice cold drink. I'm just borrowing the characters for some creative fun. **_**No copyright infringement is intended.**_

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_Mmm..._

_So good..._

_Ahhh..._

_Yes!_

_Ungh._

_More..._

_Ohhh, sweet lord this fried chicken is so good..._

_Now if only I had some peanut butter and cho–_

**_THWACK!_**

I'm startled awake by a booming blow that shakes the entire house; making the windows in my room vibrate.

"_Ahhh,_" I gurgle-croak; my heart hammering in my chest.

I try to quickly get out of bed, but the ferocious sheets tangle my legs– making me fall with a sharp thud on the hard wood floor.

My knee lands on something rocky and one of my hands touches something sticky and grainy.

I don't dare open my eyes.

"Uh-ngh." I roll out my misery.

Thank God for my squisshy butt, otherwise I would've had a concussion.

I stagger to my feet – avoiding the heaps of clothing, tools, food, and other shit on the floor – and stumble out of my bedroom door to relief my aching bladder that almost exploded on me in freight.

My home is in chaos, as I hear loud voices and laughter coming from downstairs.

I have no idea as to what is going on, but my peaceful sleep was rudely interrupted by their ruckus.

Sometimes, I wish I had a penis so that I could pee in a discarded soda bottle – that I conveniently happen to have littered around my room – and not have to leave the comfort of my bed. But alas...

As I contemplate who to blame, I groggily make my way to the bathroom.

But before I reach the comfort room, my sister rapidly passes by me in a blur and bumps into me– so hard that I get slammed against the wall.

And for some reason, she still has the audacity to blame me.

"Damn it, Bella! Watch where you're going!" She snaps, but then stops to look down at my outfit.

She smirks and mumbles something that sounds like "forgetful ditz" under her breath as she swiftly walks away.

I try to blink several times to clear my vision, but I'm unsuccessful as my eye boogers act like glue.

I huff and quickly disengage my unwanted make-out session with the wall.

"Sorry," I pat the wall and dizzily enter the bathroom; before someone else makes me sexually harass another inanimate object.

Once I've finished my regular morning routine, my vision clears, and I feel more awake and alert; so I make my way down to the kitchen for some breakfast, and to also see what all the fuzz is about.

My mom has the kitchen's t.v on so loud, that it sounds like a party is going on in the house.

She whacks something on the cutting board, making me jump.

I safely stay where I am, in fear of getting slammed with what looks like a meat tenderizer.

She finally notices me idling around as I laugh at something silly on t.v.

Her eyes widen when she sees me.

"Bella! Put some clothes on before you lure some pedophiles into the neighborhood!"

I give her a confused look as I chug down the bit of the orange juice from the carton left on the counter.

"You're still dressed like that," she motions at my clothing, "at this hour!" She proclaims, as if it were so scandalous.

I look down at myself and notice I've forgotten most of my clothes, as I'm donned in only my bra and panties, and of course, my fuzzy knee-high socks– because it's chilly and I don't want to catch a cold.

But that's normal.

I glance at the microwave and notice it's 8:11AM.

I furrow my eyebrows.

I honestly don't see what the problem is. I was actually expecting praise for waking up this early.

Which makes me wonder why, exactly, everyone woke up so early in the first place...

I shrug as I toss the carton in the freezer.

But then I remember it doesn't belong there and it's empty, so I grab it and place it neatly back on the counter, before I rummage through the cupboards; in search for some Twinkies.

"Bella!" My mom exclaims.

"Renee," I answer, irritably.

She glares at me, but then shakes her head in amusement.

"You're going to be late," she points out.

"Wha-ff?" I say, through a mouthful of fluffy-creaminess.

"Today is your first day of school," she grins.

_School?_

My eyes almost pop out of my sockets.

The last Twinkie I was holding hits the floor.

And _now_, I remember...

I groan.

_Nice way to start a new school year. Especially since we're new to this town. _

Fuck.

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**A/N: Should I continue?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you to everyone that wants to continue reading! It inspires me to write faster :)**

_I don't own Twilight. If I did, I'd have my own chef. No copyright infringement is intended._

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I trudge through the mess in my room in search for some clean clothes.

I can't find any in my wardrobe, pillows or drawers.

I even lift my mattress and check there, too.

There's isn't any.

Perhaps doing the laundry yesterday would've been wise...

Before I have a panic attack, I pick up random dirty clothing from the floor and smell them.

_Shit._

Okay...so Febreze won't help with this, no matter how much odor eliminator it has...

But I haven't looked everywhere, yet. So I run towards my windows and fling them open.

There's only a plastic hanger, a fork, three socks and a couple of scraps of food on the roof.

_Damn it._

That means I have to look in _there._

I gently make my way towards my walk-in closet and slowly open it.

But then hastily slam it closed before an impressive looking avalanche of who-knows-what comes barreling down upon me and bury me to death.

My only option is to wash some clothing.

Right now.

_Fuck._

I quickly yank my bed's sheet and pile some clothing and haul it down the stairs.

But as luck will have it, I don't know how to wash clothing...

Ha. Clearly, I'm a genius...

I won't let this cursed day get to me, though.

So I drop off the dirty clothes in the laundry room and go grab some of my mom's clothing from her immaculate closet– including some of her _new_ underwear and bras.

Because I'm not wearing her used delicates.

Pfft. That's crazy.

Thankfully we're both the same size in most apparel.

So after riffling for the right outfit, I run towards the bathroom to beautify myself.

After taking a speedy shower – of thirty something minutes – there are heaps of products haphazardly strewn on the bathroom's vanity, as I use my prodigious skills to get ready for my first day of class in the small town high school.

But of course doing things at supersonic and careless speed– one tends to fuck up.

The fresh smell of apple and cinnamon permeate throughout the bathroom.

The strong scent making me cough and wave my hand around.

I stare at my long wavy hair– unable to undo what I just did.

Confusing air freshener with hair spray is not the worse thing I've done.

In my defense, the bottled cans look the same!

At least my hair will smell nice...though edible.

I shrug and put on a nice headband to match my modest clothing, and apply a bit of make-up.

Then I slip on my slippers and head downstairs to pack a decent lunch that fits my sweet image, because I can't possibly be myself in public.

I will not be an outcast by acting like a cave-woman as I shove greasy food down my throat.

No matter how tempting.

I have to behave like a respectable young lady that shits glitter, farts butterflies and talks fairies.

A glance at the clock has me rapidly packing my lunch.

I quickly grab my bag and car keys, and head out to Forks High School.

Restraining my impulse to drive like a daredevil is no easy feat.

But I didn't want people to think I was a stunt driver.

So I drove my brand new Volvo wagon at the speed limit– like a law abiding citizen.

As I parked in the packed parking lot of the school, I made sure to check my clothing and hair were in impeccable shape, before exiting my grandmotherly car.

And before I entered the school, I brought out my inner Audrey Hepburn and left out my awkward self.

I was prepared to dazzle the secretary with a great bullshit excuse for being late, but I was told to just go to class since it was the first day.

So I took out my schedule and headed towards my Spanish class.

But soon after, I swear the school turned into the Winchester House, and I got lost...

Maybe I should have asked for a map?

Maybe.

I blame the secretary's lack of consideration.

People get lost in tiny schools.

With no luck finding the illusive Spanish class, I started getting a bit irritated, and perhaps that's why I lost my cool.

Because just as I was turning a corner, I kind of ran into a tall hard figure.

And it hurt.

A lot.

"_Unff._" Was the only thing I could utter as the solid figure fell on top of me.

The wind was knocked out of me.

And at that moment I knew what a pancake felt like– all of a sudden, I had more respect for them.

As I squirmed to get out, the lean-muscled figure tried to keep me still.

"Quit moving, will you?" The male voice said in a gruff voice.

_Sure...I can be a tortilla all day, you insensitive asshole._

Is what I wanted to say. But all that came out was: "Shun, unff un-un ahh, tohrrrlt-lah," gasp, and– I just gave up with the gibberish.

So when I had the small reprieve to move, I gathered all the Olympian energy I could possibly muster and pushed him off of me.

My strength wasn't very effective, but a few inches was enough to wiggle out from underneath the restraining form.

I brushed myself off and looked around for my schedule, only to notice it was under the bronzed-haired guy's butt.

Before he had time to recover, I used a technique that works when I need to get things from my sister, and it's unfortunate I was literally pushed to use it, but I had to get that schedule.

I don't have a photographic memory to remember all my classes when it's the first time I see them.

So I took a deep breath and hastily pinched his butt cheek.

The poor guy jumped and banged his head on a locker.

I knew then, he wasn't used to being pinched, or maybe, he had a sensitive ass...

During his groaning session, I grabbed my rumpled; booty smelling schedule and dashed away.

While making my escape, I prayed to any deity, that he didn't recognize me form here on out.

Because if he did, I don't think another pinch to the buttocks would help...

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A/N: My sister pinched my butt when I was going up the stairs once. I tripped and almost fell, too...


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you for reading!**

**_I don't own Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended._**

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After making one hell of a scene and running away like my reputation depended on it – which it does – I somehow found myself in an empty bathroom.

It gave me the reprieve I so desperately needed to try to catch my breath and not be seen.

I need to start exercising.I feel as though my lungs will collapse on me at any moment.

As I lean my weight on my knees– my breathing goes back to normal.

So I take the opportunity to put some loose strands of hair back in place and put some lip-gloss on.

But as I pretty myself up, something odd catches my attention on the bathroom's mirror.

I tilt my head.

_That looks like..._

_Oh, sweet God...no..._

I swirl around.

"_Urinals._.." I choke out in horror.

I bolt out quicker than when I went in.

Thank God the bathroom was empty.

In my haste, I wasn't able to look at the sign, or the toilets.

I'm _that_ observant.

_Shit. I didn't touch anything in there, did I? Ahh, fuck, where's my lip gloss..._

Between my lips, right.

I reprimand myself for not being careful.

And surprisingly, I mysteriously find myself standing in front of the illusive Spanish class' door.

It dawn on me that sometimes good things happen to dumbass people, too.

I was _so_ relieved, that I didn't have to plaster a fake smile on my face before interrupting the class with my lovely presence.

But that smile faded faster than virgin teenagers, as I noticed that strange bronze-haired head that I've only ever seen before when I ran into some hard bod...

I don't know if it would've been smart on my part to have prayed for the guy I bumped into, to not only forget who I was, but to also _not_ have him in a class.

Because if the clothing, disheveled bronze hair and the swelling of one of the guy's eyebrows isn't confirmation enough that in was the _same guy_– I can't ask him to flash me his derriere, or let me grope it in front of the class, "just to make sure".

And let me tell you, after being able to see him _upfront_, I don't regret pinching his fine ass.

He is _hot._

With his black rimmed glasses as well as that intense concentrating look on his face...

I'd love to speak nerd to him.

So, in someway, I'm _fine_ sharing a class with him now. Plus I don't think he recognizes me.

Or so I tell myself...

He's not staring at me like a display mannequin, as many in the class are, and instead, is busy doing something on his notebook.

Possibly writing: "you're the CSS to my HTML," or something.

I inwardly cringe in pain.

I swear I developed blisters from walking so damned much, that I'm this close to taking off my shoes and walking around here barefoot.

That's nasty, though; so I don't do it.

Just then, Señor Eleazar tells me to sit on the only remaining seat, far in the back of the class.

Away from Hot Buns, here.

I almost shed a tear of gratefulness and _vow_ to put insoles in my shoes next time.

I gracefully make my way to the back and take a seat.

When the teacher calls the class' attention and begins talking– I'm only half listening as I let my mind wander; which makes me effectively block the spectators in class.

After a few minutes, the whispering and staring ebb.

And then, I feel a jab to my ribs that almost makes me kick out my foot and send the blonde in front of me, flying across the room.

But I keep my cool and manage to suppress a sneer, and the impulse to punch the asswipe that _poked_ me.

Nice way to greet a new comer, _dear_ classmates. This isn't Facebook!

I turn to my left, in the direction I felt it come from, to politely tell the person to fuck off and instantly start thinking of ways to get back at them; when they least expect it, too.

Because I'm a lady, and I shall not reveal my savage ways.

But as I do, I see the elfin face of my sister staring back at me with her amber eyes.

I almost laugh, but thankfully, I'm able to glare at her.

"Alice," I whisper, "what are the odds of having Tinkerbell's doppelgänger in a class." I shake my head.

She rolls her eyes. "Good morning to you, too." She whispers, in her cute manner.

I nod my head in acknowledgment.

"So what took you so long, Sleeping Beauty?" She asks.

Images of what happened flash in my mind and I grimace.

"_Well?_" She asks with an impish look.

But before I can say anything, the bell rings, signaling the end of class.

As we get up and walk out of the classroom, I glance at Hot Buns.

He's looking down at his feet as he shuffles out.

I sigh.

"I may or may not have made a guy a misogynist..." I tell her.

My sister giggles; shaking her head, but then looks me up and down.

"Are you wearing mom's _clothes_?" She stretches the sweater I'm wearing, "And...are you wearing your _slippers_ to school?" She asks, dumbfounded.

I frown and furrow my eyebrows as I glance down at my feet.

_Oh._

Sure enough, I have my slippers on.

But the good thing is, they look like shoes one can walk around in public, though they don't have much support for roaming around a lot...

"Hey, Alice?"

"What?" She asks, expectantly.

"Do you know where the nurse's office is? My feet are dying," I say in a hushed voice.

She pats my arm.

"No. But good luck, you stupid pretty thing, you." She coos and almost skips away, enjoying my hardships way too much.

I glare at her retreating tiny back, and go ask the teacher for directions.

Luckily, the nurse's office was easy to locate right away.

And with an appeased sigh, I open the door.

But then almost back out and close it when I see who's in there.

It'll be fine, though. No one in this school knows who I am anyway.

Right?

Right...

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A/N: Should I keep writing? Please let me know!


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